When the Rain Falls
by Kirsthor
Summary: "Do you believe in fairy tales, Mrs. Darling?" Wendy smiled weakly at the strange man. "Oh, more than anything." she whispered, almost ruefully. The man smiled a smile so familiar it seemed to make her sad. "Would you like to be in one?" Peter/Wendy
1. Prologue

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Ok. I'm not sure I'll get that many reviews for this, but here it is!

My first Peter Pan story. I know, this will probably be a bit different from it, but I always imagined what it would be like for Peter Pan to finally decide to grow up.

Please don't get mad.

Oh, if you like, please review? I've always wanted to do a Peter Pan story. :]

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**"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.  
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.  
Walk beside me and be my friend."  
**_**- Albert Camus (also attributed to Maimonidies). **_

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

The voice in his head continuously asked why he had left his home; the voice that always chided him when he had done things without thinking. He just couldn't help it though. Home wasn't home any more. The rain never stopped when she had left. It was like Heaven was crying. He had lost his glimmer. The boys could see it, Tinker Bell could see it and so could Captain Hook. It was as if the boy had become nothing but a hollow shell. He was the spirit of Neverland; the joy and pride of it, as everyone believed. If he was happy then Neverland was a magical place, but when he was broken... then it was as if you were abandoned on a haunted Island. He thought he would be fine when she left, because what was she to him? Love was an adult emotion - which he knew. He shouldn't have ever experienced it, because then it wouldn't have put him in this kind of situation. Once again, he thought he would have been fine when she left him. He would have acted as if everything were normal again. It may have been a year there in her world, but in his it felt like centuries.

He constantly wondered if she were thinking about him. You know, the boy with the strange bronze colored hair, muddy brown eyes and a dimple on his face that indicated years of content, and happiness. After she left, there was no smile and there had been no dimple. There was nothing. The Lost Boys would ask Tinkerbell questions about what was wrong, and she knew too, for she had a look of sadness on her face that the Lost Boy's couldn't get rid of. She knew what he had been considering at the time, and she also knew nothing could stop him. What was Neverland anyway, when it had a leader that was so broken? No one could pick up the pieces like Wendy was able to. What was so special about her anyway? She, compared to him, had never lived so many years yet she was still older than him. Why did she mean so much to him?

Oh, the rain. It had been steady and merciless ever since she had left Neverland - _him. _Captain Hook, though once took pleasure in the boy's sorrow, now found that he couldn't live without an annoying boy who constantly bickered and fought with him. Life wasn't so interesting any more when Peter Pan was sadden by memories. The Lost Boy's wanted their leader back. One day they had decided to take him back to the accursed place that held his dear Wendy. It wasn't a struggle, though, to bring Peter Pan to Britain. He didn't put up a fight. Tinkerbell went willingly along this time, hoping that the glimmer would appear in Peter Pan's eyes again. They had taken him to the Park; the park was a beautiful place, like it was a Neverland on Earth. Fireflies lit the night like bright lanterns, frogs' croaked music and even the crickets joined in. There was a stream, too, that flowed softly across the ground, whispering words of solace to those in need. The motherly moon shined brightly on the stream, as if offering Peter Pan welcoming arms in her silvery grasp. All in all, the place was filled with magic. But he couldn't feel anything because he knew, somehow, that Wendy had once been here. Tinkerbell had given up hope then, when he sighed softly to the moon with his disheveled hair sprawled across his forehead.

It so happened, though, that at that very moment there was a boy, watching them curiously from the bushes. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the bright fairy at Peter's side, and the oddly dressed children that danced around the stream, splashes of water flying every where. He was so enticed that he didn't even notice one of the Lost Boy's announced his presence.

"Who are you?" Peter said softly, his muddy brown eyes taking in the battered young child. He looked the same age as Peter, and though it seemed impossible, he looked slightly like him too. No, his hair wasn't the same and neither was his eyes, but that smile that tugged on the corner of the boy's lips caught Tinkerbell's and the Lost Boy's attention. There was a glimmer so familiar that they had almost forgotten their own personal sorrows. Quietly, the boy lifted his bright green eyes to Peter's brown ones, a look of pure awe on his face boyish features.

"Who are _you?_" It was a soft voice of a young, adventurous boy that made Tinkerbell smile and the Lost Boy's stare.

"I am Peter Pan," said he, watching as a look of excitement crossed the boy's face.

"My name is Jack Wolfe!" The boy said proudly, announcing his name as if it were some great thing. Peter Pan had once said his name like that. What had happened to him? Perhaps his soul had vanished with Wendy she had left.

Jack Wolfe was a wonderful boy with a heart of gold and noble intentions. They had taken him back to Neverland that night. The boy was a joy to have around, and though Peter wished Wendy was here to meet him, he had felt a slight joy and comfort that he got from the boy. But it didn't last long...

That's why, when the moon was full, they all traveled up to a great hill where they watched the stars twinkle like crystals, their hearts saddened by the thought of what was to come.

It was told, by every fairy in Neverland, that when Peter Pan had found his equal, and a boy was found, then there would be no more Peter Pan. They all knew why now. Jack Wolfe was no ordinary boy. He could fly so easily that he could match Peter Pan; he was so mischievous that he even caught the attention of Captain Hook. Jack Wolfe had become "Jack Star", for he'd be here on this hill every night to watch those bright stars shine.

Not tonight, though, for tonight was a farewell. Jack Star was a happy boy, even though his past was no so great. Like Peter, his family had planned his feature, his marriage, his job - even what he would do when he had _children of his own. _Jack didn't like that. He wanted to stay a child, and if he had to run away then that's what he'd do. Peter Pan had come to a decision then, too, when he noticed some traits of himself in Jack. It was a decision that broke everyone's heart. But they knew this had to happen, because how could Neverland live if it didn't find its happiness soon?

Jack was a clear sign for Peter to leave. Everyone had their time to grow up, even Peter. Now was just the time. They said their good byes quietly; Peter had even lectured Jack on how to take care of his home, his family and his friends. Everything was there for Peter Pan, but he did not feel it. He felt the tug in his heart as he thought of this one girl he always had to save. Wendy.

Now, you probably know what Peter had decided he would do. It was obvious in the features of his face, and the emotions that spilled from his eyes like waterfalls. He was leaving. He was going to grow up. He was going to find Wendy, and he'd never let her go. Not like last time.

You ask me why he did such a thing, and I'd tell you it was because of love. Now... Peter wouldn't allow me to say such 'silly' things, because he believes it wasn't true. But how could someone forget their home, a place where they had lived for more than a lifetime, for a girl?

You tell me.

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How's that? XD

Please don't get mad if you didn't want Peter to leave like that. But I promise you that this will be a wonderful


	2. Standing at the Door

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"**Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile."**

**-Albert Einstein**

**Chapter 2: Standing at the Door.**

The leaves from the trees fell silently to the dew covered grass. The stream whispered words again, speaking to the man that sat on the grass silently. His hair was a strange bronze color; disarrayed and all over the place. His eyes were half-lidded, covering bright, muddy brown eyes, with a peaceful expression upon his masculine face. He looked wealthy, compared to others that lived here in this area, with dress pants and a pristine white shirt with a red tie that hung loosely around his neck.

Who is he, you ask?

Well, who was the boy that had come here years ago, to find a young boy named Jack Wolfe? Everything to him now, though, seemed like a distant memory… far off to where he couldn't reach. He remembered everything, though, but he didn't believe it. More like he didn't _want _to believe it. When he was little, he was Peter Pan, a boy who had been broken. He was adopted in an orphanage to a nice, wealthy family who took care of him. They didn't care what he did when he was older; they just loved him because he was their son now. It made Peter feel like he finally had someone to impress again - like he had a family back. They took care of him, showing him the ropes of the world and teaching him about it. He was a very smart boy, they had said. It seemed he was, for he had graduated college quite early.

He didn't want to believe it, I repeat, because how could he leave such a magical place for one with war?

You ask me what his job was, and I'd tell you. It won't come as a surprise, though. He was a Play Writer, and a famous one at that. His plays were usually for children and were filled with magic and fiction. He believed his memories were just 'dreams' and decided to twist them into plays. Each play, though, there was a girl that always returned home, leaving the boy to his lonesome - to his wild and free self. Who was that girl?

He didn't care. He wasn't this Peter Pan character; he was Samuel J. Winchester, famous play writer!

_What's wrong with me, _he'd constantly think after every day he awakes in his bed. He'd have dreams filled with fairies, Indians and a Pirate Lord. He'd have dreams about little boys that laughed and giggled carelessly, running through the forest. He'd even have dreams of himself, when he was younger, running and flying through a magical looking place, a fairy at his side.

He literally considered seeing a Doctor because of this. He told his parents, but they told him that dreaming was only natural; those dreams, they said, helped him create his wonderful plays.

Most of all, though, he dreamed of a young girl that had left the boy all alone, leaving him distraught and upset. Who was this girl?

_Where _was she?

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He was going to do it. He was going to create a play that replayed every memory from his head. He had every character set but all he needed as the girl. The girl was the key to the story and without her, it was nothing. _He _was nothing.

So tonight, on the night of one of his play, he'd watch out for a girl that could be her. He already had try outs for it, but no one every seemed as interesting as the one in his dreams. Tonight was different though.

Every seat in the house was filled with children and adults, the smiles on their face light with excitement. The play had gone well and, as expected, everyone clapped. People were leaving slowly, trying to get out the doors. Children, with their parents, came to talk to some of the characters in the play; their squeals of delight were loud and joyful. He was sitting in the back, his hands at his head as he scanned the heads for a girl. No one there was interesting.

He heard the sound of a soft voice then, his eyes snapping quickly off to the side to see the back of a woman his age. She had long, curly brown hair that cascaded down to her shoulder blades, and lovely pale skin. At her side were two young children. One of them was a girl, obviously older than the boy at her side. The girl looked as if she'd rather be any where other than here; her lips were in a full pout, and her arms were crossed. The boy, beside her, was jumping up and down with glee, grinning when one of the characters bent down to pick him up. Then the woman turned.

She was beautiful, she was familiar - it was _her. _She was the one in his 'dreams', the one who'd be playing the girl. He stood up quickly, before they could leave, and made his way over, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of him.

She looked at him as if he weren't real; her eyes were wide and her lips were parted, staring at him like he was a ghost.

"What is your name, if I may ask?" He said, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. He watched as a look of disbelief, awe, amazement and, finally, understanding flickered across her face. She then offered him a small smile.

"My name is Wendy Darling, " she answered, her eyes softening as she looked at him. The name… it made Him feel so wonderful inside, like he finally came face-to-face with an angel. He felt like he could _fly. _All thought, though, that this was only because he found someone who'd be playing the girl from his dreams. The woman in front of him looked like the girl, and her name was Wendy Darling - such a beautiful name.

"My name is Samuel Winchester, but you can call me Sam." He saw her face finally fall to a look of sadness, as if he had disappointed her in a way. He reached down, taking the boy at her side into his arms, grinning at him. The boy, instantly, grew attached to Him, giggling like an imp.

"Mommy! It's Peter Pan!" The boy shouted loudly, catching the attention of his sister. "Look, Jane, it's Peter! And you said he wasn't real."

The girl, Jane, looked at him with a look of disbelief, but seeing the confused expression upon His face, she frowned. "No it's not, Danny. He's just a man."

"Just a man?" Danny repeated with a frown, glancing at Him with a look of confusion. But Danny smiled again, wrapping his tiny arms around His neck. "No, it's Peter! I believe it is!"

Jane scoffed, looking away with a look of disdain. _The girl obviously doesn't like this Peter fellow_, he concluded. Wendy reached out, obviously wanting to take Danny from his arms, pulling the boy to her.

"Danny, that is not Peter Pan--"

"Oh, no… let him believe what he wants." He said softly with a grin. Wendy stared at him for a moment, a look of sadness on her face.

"Do you believe in fairytales, Mrs. Darling?" Wendy smiled weakly at the man.

"More than anything, " she whispered, almost ruefully.

The man smiled a smile so familiar; it seemed to make her sad. "Want to be in one?"

She stared at him for a moment, before another smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Yes."

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Wendy's home was beautiful. It wasn't as nice as His, but it was a close second. The clock in the kitchen ticked and ticked as He sat, watching the children eat their dinner. Wendy was staring carefully at him, curiously, from where she sat at the table. They excused themselves from the table, making their way into the living room. Wendy kept her eyes carefully on him, as if he'd disappear any minute. Then she smiled.

"What fairytale are you talking about, Sam?" She asked gently, placing her hands behind her back.

"It's a play. I don't know the name of it yet, but I will figure it out. I want you to play a girl," he said.

"A girl?"

"Yes, a girl. I'm not finished with it yet, but I know I want you to be the girl."

"I see."

"What is it about?" She asked gently, eyeing him curiously.

"It's about a boy," he paused, "who never grows up."

He eyes widened at that, her lips parting as she whispered one word, "Peter."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing." She said quickly, shrugging it off.

They were silent after that. The clock kept ticking away, leaving them to stare awkwardly at the ground.

"Where's your husband?" He asked quietly, glancing up at her. She frowned for a moment, as if the question disturbed her. She had a good reason to look that way.

"He died, just after Danny was born. He was in the war, " she explained softly, looking away. War. How he hated it. They were silent again. He was sitting on the seat while she on a stool, both of their gazes locked. It felt like they were the only two people in this world. She felt so familiar that it hurt to think about. She offered him a smile then, as he lazily chewed on the side of his mouth. He could only think of one word then. As the rays from the moon shined down against her skin, all he could think about was how beautiful she looked.

"Mommy?" Danny called, peeking in. "Jane and I are going to bed."

Wendy jumped at the sound of her son's voice, her eyes drifting off toward him. She stood up, making her way to the boy before disappearing upstairs. He followed. He found them in a room large room. Only two beds and a few toys that littered the floor made the room seem perfect for a child. Why did this room look so familiar?

"Good night, my sweets." Wendy said gently, leaning forward to plant a kiss on each forehead. "Night Mom," they replied. Wendy looked at Him with a small smile, leading the way out of the room. But he didn't leave. His eyes were locked on a figure near the window: a doll. It was homemade, it looked like, and it was the shape of a boy. A very familiar boy. A boy that looked like _him _when he was younger.

That's when the memories hit full force.

He wasn't Samuel J. Winchester.

_He was Peter Pan._

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"I've got to leave, " He said to Wendy as he made his way down, a look of dismay on his face when he saw her. She had grown up so beautifully. But she shouldn't have grown up - _he _shouldn't have grown up. He looked like he was panicking, and Wendy reached out a hand to guide him to a chair but he shrugged her hand away.

"I'm sorry," was the only word he managed to say before he ran from the house.

And there he was, at the stream, with his jacket thrown off to the side, his eyes half-lidded as they stared at the flowing water in the stream.

"I'm Peter Pan, " he said softly to himself, shaking his head. How could he have forgotten? He had made such a big decision when he was younger, and he forgot about it. All for Wendy, a girl who was grown up with two children. She had married before too, with another man.

_Why did he leave, _constantly rang through his head, like a mantra. He was older now and wiser, which he didn't want. He wanted to be young again and do his own adventures, instead of writing plays. Then he thought of Wendy again. She, indeed, had grown into a beautiful woman - a widow. He had left because of her, but why?

There was movement in the bushes, making him jump up from his spot on the grass, glaring at it. Peter had _never _glared.

His facial expressions relaxed, releasing a small sigh. It was probably an animal anyway. Then, suddenly, a figure appeared and a bright light, like a firefly, made its way over.

"Peter," the boy greeted, while the fairy beside him suddenly went wild. Tinkerbell launched herself at Peter, holding onto him tightly. This was only an example that he truly was Peter Pan.

"Tink," he murmured softly, reaching up to let the fairy seat herself into the palm of his big hand. He couldn't understand her anymore, and that made him frown. Jack, the boy, finally grinned at Peter.

"You're old!"

That made him frown even deeper. He watched as Jack called Tinkerbell back to him, like he had done so many times before when he was younger. The fairy reluctantly made her way to Jack's side.

"Tink says she misses you, " Jack murmured softly, watching Peter's face soften.

"I miss you too, Tinkerbell."

If it were possible, her light brightened like a light bulb at his words.

"We have to go, Peter. We'll see you some day! Don't forget, though," Jack paused, "Always remember who you came here for."

They disappeared then, flying into the sky to the second star to the right. He felt like crying, but men don't cry.

But then he remembered something, staring at a few golden specks of fairy dust on the ground. No matter how old he was, Peter was still Peter and Peter was a boy.

He remembered why he had left Neverland and for whom. For Wendy, the girl he had just left.

But Peter was still a boy.

That's why tears fell from his eyes that night.

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_Wendy's probably 28 and Peter's 27._

_Jane's around 8, and Danny's only 3. Just wanted to put that for those who were wondering. :]_


	3. On Hold

**On Hold.**

School's starting.

They said school's going to be twice as hard now. Supposedly, since the Economy and everything is going crazy, they're shortening the school year by a lot. So, yeah... they don't want us to get stupid.

XD Sorry, everyone. I'll continue writing when I have the chance.

PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON THE STORIES! :c

**I have a chapter almost done for this one. It'll be up soon, I hope. c:**


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